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in 2011 with funding from 

Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum Library and Archives 





The Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation 


Peter O. Lawson-Johnston 

H. H. Arnason 

Eleanor, Countess Castle Stewart 

Joseph W. Donner 

Mason Welch Gross 

Henry Allen Moe 

A. Chauncey Newlin 

Mrs. Henry Obre 

Daniel Catton Rich 

Albert E. Thiele 

Michael F. Wettach 

Carl Zigrosser 

Published by The Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation 
New York, 1971 

All Rights Reserved 

® The Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation, 1971 

Library of Congress Card Catalogue Number 79-187300 

Printed in the United States of America 

Cover: Untitled 1970, Cat. No. 102 


Dr. and Mrs. Nathan Alpers, Beverly Hills 

American Broadcasting Companies, Inc., New York 

David Anderson, New York 

Richard Artschwager, New York 

Elizabeth C. Baker, New York 

Mr. and Mrs. Brooks Barron, Detroit 

Richard Bellamy, New York 

Mr. and Mrs. Leo Castelli, New York 

Charles Cowles, New York 

Mrs. Marcel Duchamp, New York 

Heiner Friedrich, Cologne 

Mr. and Mrs. Harry Glasgall, New York 

Wolfgang Hahn, Cologne 

Jasper Johns, New York 

Philip Johnson, New Canaan, Connecticut 

Flavin Judd, New York 

Julie and Don Judd, New York 

Rainer Judd, New York 

Mr. and Mrs. Ivan C. Karp, New York 

Walter Kelly, Chicago 

Mr. and Mrs. Alvin S. Lane, New York 

Sydney and Frances Lewis, Richmond, Virginia 

Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Mones, New York 

Dolores and Hubert Neumann, New York 

Jerald Ordover, New York 

Mr. and Mrs. Stanley Poler, New York 

Mr. and Mrs. Fredric M. Roberts, Lawrence, New York 

Mr. and Mrs. Robert A. Rowan, Los Angeles 

Mickey Ruskin, New York 

Mr. and Mrs. Jared Sable, Toronto 

Mr. and Mrs. Seymour Schweber, Great Neck, New York 

Collection Shangopolo 

Frank Stella, New York 

Mr. and Mrs. William M. Speiller, Washington, D.C. 

Mr. and Mrs. Allan Stone, New York 

Mr. and Mrs. Michael Sundell, Cleveland 

Mr. and Mrs. Burton Tremaine, Meriden, Connecticut 

Mr. and Mrs. Herbert Vogel, New York 

Samuel J. Wagstaff, Jr., New York 

Andy Warhol, New York 

John W. Weber, New York 

Albright-Kno.x Art Gallery, Buffalo 

Detroit Institute of Arts 

The Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New York 

Los Angeles County Museum of Art 

The Museum of Modern Art, New York 

William Rockhill Nelson Gallery and Atkins Museum of 

Fine Arts, Kansas City 

Pasadena Art Museum 

Sammlung Karl Stroher im Hessischen Landesmuseum, 

Darmstadt, Germany 

Whitney Museum of American Art, New York 

George Peabody College Fine Arts Museum, 

Nashville, Tennessee 

The Tate Gallery, London 

Leo Castelli Gallery, New York 
Noah Goldowsky Gallery, New York 
Martha Jackson Gallery, Inc., New York 
Locksley-Shea Gallery, Minneapolis 
Lo Giudice Gallery, New York 


I would like to express my gratitude to the many individuals who have helped to 
make this exhibition possible, particularly Mary-Ann Barcelona, Richard Bellamy, 
Leo Castelli, Jim Jacobs, Don Judd, Joseph Lo Giudice, Jane Salzfass, Allan Stone, 
Tamara Tovey and Barbara Wool. I am also very grateful to the numerous mem- 
bers of the Guggenheim's staff who have helped me during the various stages of the 
exhibition's preparation, especially Linda Shearer for her general assistance, Carol 
Fuerstein for editing the catalogue, Ward Jackson for compiling the bibliography, 
Beverly Liftman and Sabine Rewald, as well as the staffs of the Conservation and 
Registrar Departments. Needless to say, the extreme generosity and enthusiasm 
on the part of the lenders has been of the utmost importance to the exhibition. 
I am, of course, most deeply indebted to John Chamberlain for his invaluable 
cooperation and for the great pleasure of working with him on the occasion of 
this exhibition. 



If the Abstract Expressionist emphasis on the act or process of making a painting 
is still a significant feature of the art of the seventies, then its more immediate 
impact on late fifties art was a truly influential, if not always fruitful, feature of 
both painting and sculpture. Where it led both Johns and Rauschenberg into ironic 
commentary on that act, which culminated in Pop Art, it produced, in the late 
fifties, a form of Neo-Dada best exemplified by The Museum of Modern Art exhi- 
tion Assemblage of 1961. Although the exhibition included artists of different 
persuasions, it succeeded in pointing out the fascination with materials that was 
especially prominent in the last years of the fifties, which Pop Art with seeming 
finality abruptly terminated. 

The single exception to a period that can now he seen as clearly transitional 
was John Chamberlain. Chamberlain alone transcended his materials and seized 
upon the found object — the automobile — exploiting it for its potential as form. 
Like de Kooning, who subverted the materialism of paint, Chamberlain used the 
ready-made form of the automobile to arrive at another end. The irony of using 
a mass-produced commodity which then, as now, stands as a symbol of the 
American dream, and as a more particularized metaphor of American masculinity, 
has not been lost upon us — just as the transcendental character of pigment is im- 
pressed on us by de Kooning — and, indeed, heightens our awareness of the trans- 
formation into art. 

The significance of the automobile notwithstanding, it was the unmasking of 
the known commodity and its alteration into another presence that interested 
Chamberlain. He predicted subsequent developments in Pop Art without, how- 
ever, finding it necessary to retain a perceptible relationship between his point of 
origin and the real world. Chamberlain's approach, on the other hand, was not 
unlike that of the Abstract Expressionists. Although he started with parts of a 
known c]uantity, the body or fenders of a car, he never knew how the final form 
would take shape. Like the Abstract Expressionists, but unlike early sixties work 
in general, he realized a sculpture based on what can best be described as culti- 
vated intuition, his sculpture was a development from the fifties concept of calling 
forth an image from the \oid. Chamberlain took this one step further by first 


destroying a known form. In some respects this process, or its end state, is simi- 
lar to other artists working during the late fifties. But unHke them. Chamberlain 
has maintained a perfect equilibrium between the original state of his object and 
its final transformation, without retaining any specific clues to the former domain. 
In assemblage those clues were incorporated into the work itself as remnants 
of a former existence. As memory clues, they constituted a continually shifting, 
ultimately evasive record of the presence of the object as form. Chamberlain's 
work, if visually fragmented, was nonetheless totally cohesive as a plastic state- 
ment. It was virtually devoid of shifts in time or any other reference; its success 
stemmed from the fact that as a physical presence it was supremely itself. 

Chamberlain's welded and steel constructions, of 1957, like the work of other 
young sculptors who matured during the late fifties, bear the considerable in- 
fluence of David Smith. In these works he is concerned with materials which 
incorporate a raw industrial look and a welding technique that makes evident 
the explicit joining of the parts that went into the sculpture. Process, which still 
plays an important role today in sculpture, was an evident manifestation of 
Abstract Expressionism that David Smith translated into a significant feature 
of his work and which Chamberlain later reiterated in his own sculpture (Ballan- 
tiiie p. 23, and Cord, cat. no. 3, both 1957). The emphasis on materials and 
process notwithstanding. Chamberlain's early work reveals some fascinating con- 
trasts to that of Smith — most pronounced in terms of form — and is indicative 
of his future direction. Assuming that Chamberlain was initially influenced to a 
considerable degree by the linear arabesques of David Smith (out of Pollock), it is 
nonetheless significant that he did not share the passion for metaphor that was so 
prominent a feature of Smith's work of the fifties. There is an important difference 
between the emphasis on materials and metaphor. Chamberlain never allowed his 
materials to get in the way of form. For Chamberlain, even at this formative stage 
of his career, his direction was toward a virtual abstraction. Surrealist symbolism 
— or its American translation, the pictograph — that first informed forties painting 
and then Smith's work of the early fifties (the Agricola series) was inherently alien 
to Chamberlain's work. His early style derived fundamentally from the vibrant 
painterly abstraction of de Kooning and the energy and thrust of Kline, rather 
than the literal symbolism of Smith. Since Smith's fifties sculpture ultimately led 
to the production of his major work — the Ciibis — in the sixties, it was inevitable 
that Chamberlain would develop quite independently. Ultimately, it was not a 
matter of Chamberlain's imitation or improvement of Smith, but his recognition 
of a major sculptor and willingness to use certain precepts to foster his own ideas. 

Just as Smith's sculpture was preeminently linear and retained, even in the 
Ctibis, a fondness for the pictorial, so Chamberlain has expressed a conviction 
about mass and volume that led him away from Smith fairly early in his career. 
Where Smith's Cubist orientation guided him toward innovation in sculpture 
based upon the picture plane, and to work that is fundamentally space envelop- 
ing (like Henry Moore's) Chamberlain's point of departure has been the exten- 
sion of mass which captures space by pressure from a central point. Even in such 
early works as Shortstop (cat. no. 4), 1957, based on a linear configuration, 
Chamberlain has expressed his increased awareness of the physical presence of 

sculpture by emphasizing the centrifugal force to which lateral appendages are 
subordinated. The single unit, which has been the mainstay of sculpture tradi- 
tionally, is the constituent feature of Chamberlain's work, albeit without specific 
anthropomorphic connotations. Chamberlain's sculpture, then, may be said to 
have its foundations not only in Abstract Expressionism but in the Baroque and 
the Renaissance: not as an eclectic or conservative approach to form, but as a 
personal understanding of the significance of plastic innovation, which has made 
his work without peer in the sixties. 

Shortstop, in fact, was the first work made from auto body parts. Using t^vo 
fenders from a Ford that he found at Larry Rivers' house in Southampton, Cham- 
berlain worked with them until he finally synthesized the parts successfully. As 
Chamberlain has expressed it, the vital features of this work are "the idea of the 
squeeze and the compression and the fit."' The realization of a sculpture depended 
upon the successful interlocking of scrap metals culled at random from junkyards. 
Chamberlain then, as now, preferred to work with materials that are both readily 
available and commonplace. The ordinariness of scrap metal, foam rubber, and 
paper bags pleased him since they embodied a reality — a connection with the 
real world — that he felt necessary to express in his work. 

The commanding physical presence of Chamberlain's sculptures derives, in 
part, from his materials; the form itself, however, is not inherent in the materials 
but is one that the artist shapes from them. However, Chamberlain is reluctant 
to impose a preconceived form: since he works with materials that have a shape 
prior to his use, this shape in some ways constitutes a property that he respects 
and retains even in the act of transforming them. There is a fundamental con- 
sistency to all of Chamberlain's work and at the same time the singular char- 
acteristics of each group of works are clearly preserved. It is in the fitting together 
or the reshaping of his materials that the form is realized. Neither the joints 
(welding), the use of color nor materials are ultimately significant, except insofar 
as they test or define his form. 

From 1959, when Chamberlain started to work exclusively with crushed auto- 
mobile parts, to 1963, when he moved into painting, his direction has shifted from 
a more complex to a simplified one, from found parts which he manipulated but 
did not otherwise alter to surfaces which he reworked by painting, and finally 
to surfaces that were entirely painted. The latter were painted in such a way as 
to clearly indicate that they were auto parts while just as emphatically signalling 
that they were the result of the artist, not the machine. At this time, he made 
both free-standing sculpture in the round and other works which were clearly 
feasible only as relief. Free-standing works like Wildroot or Johnny Bird (cat. 
nos. 9 and 11), of 1959, suggest some of the variations that Chamberlain arrived 
at fairly soon after he decided to work with junk metals. While fully volumetric, 
Wildroot nonetheless seems compressed into a far more shallow space than Johnny 
Bird which also benefits from a central axis. Both enjoy a comprehensive sense 
of mass enhanced by predominantly linear accessory features that serve to re- 

1. Tuchman, Phyllis, "Interview with John Chamberlain," Art forum. Vol. 10, January, 1971. 

iterate shape and to enclose the space arounci the form. Both are inherently 
static, and while decidedly not frontal, they stop short of the dynamic pinwheel 
effect (suggesting if not actual motion, then implied movement) of later works 
like Jo-So (cat. no. 14) of i960. Works like 7o-5o manage to incorporate both 
violent lateral movement (often on Kline-like diagonals) with centrifugal motion 
and simultaneously, through Chamberlain's understanding of balance and 
rhythm, to achieve perfect equilibrium. 

Essex (cat. no. zo), i960, Mr. Press (illustrated p. 46), 1961, and Dolores James 
(cat. no. 47), 196Z, are outstanding examples of Chamberlain's consummate 
ability to manipulate his forms in relation to the wall. Although as character- 
istically physical in their presence as the free-standing works of this period, 
the three sculptures are intrinsically related to the wall and thereby force the 
equation between their dimensional form and the flat surface behind them. 
Unlike the fluid contour of the free-standing sculptures, the reliefs are roughly 
rectangular in shape (they may still be irregular) with their energy and thrust 
projected outward toward the spectator, rather than extending laterally or in any 
way suggesting centrifugal force; the forms, in fact, are centripetal, propelled in- 
ward, as in Mr. Press, or fairly evenly dispersed, as in Dolores James. Although 
it was common in the early sixties to refer to these pieces (and indeed to Cham- 
berlain's work in general) as collage, this designation is correct in only the most 
superficial respects; collage may not even have been his point of departure. It 
scarcely applies to the free-standing work at all, since collage was essentially a 
process of building out from a literally flat surface and, as initially conceived, 
intended to force the issue of illusionism and reality vis-a-vis a flat (painterly or 
graphic) surface. Even more significantly, while there is a certain painterliness in 
Chamberlain, especially in his use of color, it is an integral part of his need to 
shape, to give dimension to his forms. In this respect, his wall reliefs are incon- 
ceivable as merely pictorial (collage) forms, rather, they aggressively assert them- 
selves as sculpture, relating to both the spectator and the wall. Chamberlain's 
forms have been said to relate to Cubism, but they do so only in so far as they 
are fragmented, faceted shapes. They do not, however, even implicitly accept 
a planar relationship like Smith's. Chamberlain can only be regarded as Cubist 
in much the same manner as nearly every younger artist who has acknowledged 
the importance of that movement. Chamberlain's own authority as a major sculp- 
tor is unique: he has produced a body of work that is entirely personal and 
independent of any school or movement. However, his work is singularly char- 
acteristic of the fifties in that he did not try to impose preconceived conditions 
on his material but made explicit what he saw as the inherent properties of the 
materials themselves. This is one, although by no means the only, reason for his 
high standing among younger artists working in the seventies. 

Since Chamberlain's work avoided the literary symbolism of much of late 
fifties art, it enabled him to turn to a consideration of other issues. In the auto- 
mobile works of the early 1960's, he demonstrated an uncanny ability to turn 
processed color into a considerable and personal statement. The viscosity of paint 
and its inherent physicality, which was a prominent feature of Abstract Expres- 
sionism, was seized upon by Chamberlain who literally bent and wrestled his 

forms into shape. In this respect, a fascinating comparison exists between Cliam- 
berlain and Judd, since Judd saw Stella's stripes as slabs of color extrapolating 
from them his "specific objects." Chamberlain was able to take advantage of a 
readymade situation which the automobile offered to circumvent the persistent 
problem posed by polychrome sculpture — that color appears to be an additive 
rather than an inherent feature of the work. By the time Chamberlain had com- 
pleted a work, which was often made from disparate parts and different ma- 
chines, the end product was in no way recognizable. The artist was able to focus 
upon the innumerable possibilities offered by his so-called readymade color. In 
subsequent sculptures and particularly in such later paintings as Orlons (cat. no. 
52), 1963, and Rolling Stones (cat. no. 66), 1965, Chamberlain chose to con- 
centrate more explicitly on color. Selecting a geometric shape that seemed un- 
characteristic (not to the artist, however), Chamberlain built up a surface by 
spraying sometimes as much as 100 coats of automobile lacquer, first on masonite 
and then on formica to achieve one color. Imbedded in this veil of quasi-trans- 
parent layers of color was a geometric figure consisting of nine squares in either 
one or two sets per painting. The singular consistency of form and color that 
is his trademark in sculpture is just as inherent in these small paintings. What 
was new to the work, however, was the hard automobile finish, the bright clean 
colors, the so-called California look that, in fact, seems to have predicted much 
of later Los Angeles art. 

His forms, though bruised by both industrial manufacture and the artist's hand, 
appear as uncanny evocations of human form. Bawdy figures, Chamberlain's 
forms are at once cheap and commonplace and noble and magnificent. Above 
all, his work speaks of a humanity which is all the more amazing considering its 
origins. The cold, impersonal mass-produced perfection which Pop later capi- 
talized on, is in Chamberlain's work translated into its very opposite — pieces of 
machinery become tenuous, imperfect, and supremely humanized. His surfaces 
become tactile, his color takes on the cast of the human form, each and every bend 
and hollow full of refractions and reflections. Chamberlain's work is filled with 
complexities and contradictions: heroic and intimate, fragile and above all a 
response to life on an immediate and intuitive le\el. Clearly the metaphysical 
passion that informs Mondrian or Newman is not found in Chamberlain; his art 
is as earthbound as de Kooning's, and like de Kooning, functions without the 
dogma of a rational ideology. 

The humor apparent in Chamberlain's use of junk materials is another im- 
portant facet of his work. That he made major sculpture without relying on pre- 
cious materials and yet produced full-blown forms as splendid as monuments in 
homage to the great sculpture of the past, is nothing short of brilliant. Although 
his work is monumental, it rarely exceeds human height; indeed, among his best 
works are some that are small or even minute in size (see cat. nos. 34 and 91). 
His sense of scale is so powerful and so successful a part of his work that, more 
often than not, size becomes inconsequential. His recognition of the value and 
humor of commonplace materials like foam rubber, which has a relativelv short 
life-span unlike marble which it resembles, and paper bags which he has treated 
with as much respect as most sculptors would cor-ten steel. 

Like other artists maturing in the late fifties (Rauschenberg and Johns, for 
example), Chamberlain experienced the need to reject traditional concepts of art. 
He preferred to introduce ordinary materials, rather than conventional materials, 
into his work, but has no compulsion about transforming them and certainly no 
need to depict them in their original state. The foam pieces, which he first pro- 
duced in 1966-67, have barely survived the last few years. Girdled like some fat 
Venus, the foam was cinched around the middle with nylon cord and looks like . 
Brancusi's or Arp's forms. The humor attendent upon the recognition of this 
relationship was not lost, nor was the sense of fragility of the real stuff sculp- 
tures were made from. One can clearly see in the works, as different as they 
were in most respects from the earlier automobile sculptures, a continuation of 
Chamberlain's primary interest, albeit from another point of view. The same can 
be said for all of this work, large and small, painting and sculpture: they are all 
but different facets of each other. 

The paper bags (see cat. no. 91) for example, which he produced in relatively 
small numbers, and exhibited in California in 1969, combined commonplace im- 
permanent materials reinforced with resin and watercolor which he introduced 
to achieve effects that look strikingly like his plexiglas sculptures of 1970. The 
bags, like his other sculptures, are hollow inside, but are reworked to conceal their 
original shape. This aspect of Chamberlain's work is fundamental to all his sculp- 
ture, large or small. An important characteristic is concealment; one is never quite 
sure of how they are put together. The work is never fully revealing, always 
mysterious, it is always more than the sum of its parts. In this respect. Chamber- 
lain is closer to the New York School of painting than to painters or sculptors of 
the sixties. 

From the crushed automobile parts to the more recent galvanized metal and 
plexiglas works. Chamberlain started with structures that were hollow and re- 
tained this characteristic, even when he crushed them into other forms. His sculp- 
ture, while singular and massive, has no center but is hollow (just as traditional 
sculpture was built from an armature out). This phenomenon is, in itself, extraor- 
dinary, for it subverts traditional concepts of form even to the extent of parody. 
As Chamberlain has pointed out, he has started with a structure not unlike that 


of an empty cigarette pack and its subsequent form is always keyed to this initial 

Both Chamberlain's crushed aluminum sculptures of 1967-68, and his more 
recent mineral-coated melted plexiglas sculptures are an extension of and inven- 
tion upon his earlier work. Breaking away from sculpture, at least temporarily, 
Chamberlain's return to painting appears to have had some influence on his 
more recent sculpture. His predilection for fitting or interlocking disparate parts 
was replaced by a preference for single units which in works like Norma Jean 
Rising, 196-7, and Untitled, 1970, (cat nos. 83 and 102) were box-like structures. In- 
stead of welding. Chamberlain crushed or melted his materials. Both types are 
enclosed, monolithic forms in which the energy is concentrated, not dispersed. 
But here the similarity ends. The crushed aluminum boxes have a tall, spare but 
dramatic appearance which is denied to the plexiglas. The latter, on the other 
hand, are mineral-coated for various effects: some parts look like stainless steel, 
others have an irridescent sheen that gives the still transparent plexiglas a rainbow- 
like look. The multiple reflections create shifting planes out of a fluid space whose 
organization is ultimately amorphous. This feature, of course, is quite similar to 
the concealment in his earlier work, for, although the material is transparent, the 
structure is no more self-explanatory than his crushed auto sculptures. 

All the materials that Chamberlain has used have to do with light in one way 
or another, from the hard refractory surfaces of his automobile constructions to 
the nebulous opacity of his urethane sculptures, from the absorbent non-reflecting 
surfaces of his galvanized pieces — made from crushed Judd boxes — to the translu- 
cent overlapping layers of plexiglas of his most recent work. Chamberlain has 
touched upon every major facet of this potential of materials, together with scale 
and color, but has remained consistent in one major respect — that of form. 

In capturing the essence of his materials — by stressing the limpid but mysterious 
glimmer of light-reflecting surfaces, the raucous color of the crushed automobile, 
or the bellied fullness of foam, John Chamberlain has stopped just short of excess. 
It is Chamberlain's intention to use the appearance of things — as chaotic as they 
may seem — to reveal their inherent order. Only if we understand this phenomenon 
can we appreciate the beauty of his work. 



Installation view, Dwan Gallery, Los Angeles, One-man 
exhibition, December 19, i96(J— January 7, 1967 



October 26, 1971, New York City. 

DW Did you start out as a painter? 

jc Oh momentarily. 

DW "Well, how long, about a year? 

JC I was still in art school. I walked past the sculpture 
studio one time and I saw all these little people 
standing on stands. 

DW Little sculptures or little people? 

JC Little sculptures and I did about three takes. It was 
just fantastic to see about 30 little people standing 
around and I thought it was marvelous. It enlarged 
the whole space of the room and I was convinced 
that was the room to be in. 

Dj That would probably be a real solution to the popu- 
lation problem. Just reduce the size of the people. 

jC I think they're probably doing a good job on them- 
selves. Then I got in there and I found Joe Goto 
working. He had left school but he came back to use 
the studio and it was fantastic the way he was weld- 
ing things. I didn't particularly see his sculpture in 
some kind of context because he was sort of making 
large horses — you know that style that he developed 
in the beginning of the fifties. I don't know if you 
know him at all. But it wasn't the welding that was 
the thing but that he made connection by welding. I 
mean his connections, they were well welded as they 
say — the welding was good and all that, but it wasn't 
good welding that was appealing, it was that he 

made great connections. He connected and that was 
an interesting point. And then a David Smith sculp- 
ture showed up — one of the early Agricolas — and 
it was sitting up in the museum and so I would go 
look at it and it was the first piece of sculpture that 
I saw that was just itself. I mean it wasn't represent- 
ing something and it wasn't telling me that I should 
do this or that. It was just there by itself and that 
fascinated me. And I think there was a Giacometti 
that they put up at the head of the stairs. They have 
a great open space there. 

DW "Where was this? 

JC In the Chicago Art Institute and it was one of the 
four figures crossing the square but it took up the 
whole space that Giacometti was able to maneu\er. 
The sculpture intrigued me in terms of presence and 
volume — but the volume that delineates, like say, the 
negative areas. "Well, the negative area around the 
Giacometti was tremendous. And that was about the 
same time that de Kooning won a prize there for a 
painting that they own called Excavation which was 
very large to me; then I saw it subsequently three 
other times and it got smaller and smaller — it was 
\ery funny. In other words, the presence of it is only 
allowable in terms of your experience somehow. 
But with those sculptures, the presence was sus- 
tained. So in other words, there's a larger presence 
available in sculpture than there would be in paint- 
ing, so I made a choice there in terms of the phys- 
icality of it. But David's piece intrigued me because 


it was like meeting another person, you see. And 
they were bare, so to speak, like all their parts were 
available for inspection. 

D\v Did you like his connections? 

jc His connections didn't intrigue me in the same way 
I was affected by Goto's number. 

DW No, because recent criticism has emphasized his 
importance as a welder. 

JC I still think he's a painter although I think that there's 
something about the weight that he liked. I mean 
he knew that a lot of things could be done to steel, 
but I don't know that he really did all those things 
to it. I don't really know how to say it because 
possibly I don't want to say it, but 1 just think he 

ECB Because you read them two-dimensionally? 

DW Many people do. 

JC Yeah, I don't think that their presence is as big as 
they want to get. Anyway I feel that is part of why 
I disagree with David, but I have to say that for me 
there was a turn-on in 1952. 

DW There really isn't any good sculpture that avoids the 

JC No, I think that we're all i-d. The majority of 
people are 2-d; there's very few people who are 
3-d. And they're all so used to getting the informa- 
tion from painting. I mean what is it about sculpture 
that is different from painting? You know, I go back 
to the presence of it, and I find that when I take 
even small sculptures to people's apartments it wipes 
the place out. And a lot of people don't like to be 
wiped out that way, see? 

DW But isn't it also then a problem between the sculptor 
and his work — maybe that relationship doesn't work 
well either. 

JC You have a lot of people trying to make sculpture 
and they're more interested in making sculpture 
let's say, than they are in paying attention to what 
the information of the material tells them, which I 
always thought was one of the first places to go. 

You find the material and it excites you. And what 
does it do that's really indigenous to your soul? And 
you play with it. 

DW Was it that way for you with the automobile? 

JC Well, I was looking around for another kind of 
material, because I ran out of material. Then I had 
a studio and nothing happened there. I made some 
drawings and things like that and couldn't figure 
out anything. Then I went to Larry Rivers' place 
and he had some old car parts out there — a '29 Ford, 
and it was a different proposition. All of a sudden 
I liked them for some reason. Then a couple of 
months later it occurred to me that there were all 
of these junkyards around and it was fantastic — just 
free material — free material at that time was essen- 
tial. And here it was, free steel that was already 
painted. You couldn't beat it with a sledge hammer. 
You know, that was all right. Along with anybody 
else who happened to be around, I kept pointing 
at it and in the case of Larry's place I kept tripping 
over it, and finally it got through. 

DW But to him they were just cars? 

JC Yeah, he was going to put it back together or some- 
thing. I don't know. Beat him to it. But I feel there's 
a certain honesty about how you come about your 
material whether it is at the movies — it just happens 
— like how I found out about foam rubber. Like it's 
always around but it has to be indicated by some 
means other than "well I think Fll give it a chance" 
number. Rather than that, you really discover it. 
It's a common material; you finally discover it. 

DW You like the fact that it's common? 

JC Oh yeah, all the material I work with — I mean all 
that material is common but what you do with it is 
what's uncommon. What you do with materials is 
going to alter it for anybody doing it later. If you 
don't find your materials by some means indigenous 
to your trip, if you just take it because it looks like 
an "in" material, that's sort of a shitty way of doing 
it. But really to "fall in lo\'e"' and then deal with it 
like you would something in that way, well you 


come to another side of it and you come to another 
side of yourself, I think. I mean art has to be some- 
thing besides line, color, texture and the three 

D\v "When did you find these pieces at Rivers'? 

jc About '57 I guess. 

D\v When did you leave Chicago? 

JC I left in '54 and then went to Black Mountain. 

DW And you were at Black Mountain for a year? 

JC Yeah, and then I came to New York. 

DW Who was at Black Mountain then? 

JC Charles Olsen, Bob Creeley, Robert Duncan. When 
I was there it was just poets. Stephen Volpe was there 
and Joe Fiore was there and Dan Rice was there; 
a few other people. Fielding Dawson was there. 

DW What was it like? 

JC Well, it was very interesting because I felt that the 
object has its own life and its own qualities. I 
couldn't ever get any conversation in Chicago about 
it but I went to Black Mountain and I found out 
about it immediately. They were all thinking the 
same thing. So it was one of those moves — some- 
thing moved me, so to speak, and it was the right 
move. I mean it's like how Pound talks and how 
Williams talked and how Olsen talked. They all 
had different estimates about how form was built. 
So it was all very interesting and it fit in with 
an attitude I had. I wanted the sculpture to exist 
on its own terms coming through the process of 
myself. You know, do you like the material, or the 
material is what you liked and what's available. And 
a few other things like that. I suspect that if every- 
thing were reduced to glass, you'd do something with 
glass, because that's what you'd have. I found that 
the particular principle of compression and 
wadding-up or manipulating with the fingers, so to 
speak, whether you use the machine or not, has a 
lot of application to a lot of different materials and 
I only use materials that deal with that. Even the 
paintings, by using the veil method, are a compres- 

sion of some kind. So it all has to do with if it's 
sexual, it's squeezing and hugging. And if it's in- 
stinctive, it has to do with fit and balance; if it's 
emotional, it's presence, and I don't know how it 
gets to be intellectual. 

DW How much manipulation did you do in the early 

JC A lot. There were times, like I remember Creeley 
and I got drunk one night and we just threw a lot 
of shit in the pile and kicked it around a few times 
and then we looked down and gee, it looked beauti- 
ful. And that happened a couple of times. On a 
couple of other occasions I would get a thing built 
up and get a fantastic view from one side but the 
rest of it was off, like way over. You could never 
do anything more to it because the one side was 
so beautiful, so I had to destroy it. I mean beaut)' 
was in the fit and say, the color combination or 
something like that. In other words it would have 
two or more components going for it with one view 
only and there was nothing I could do around it. 
It was impossible. But on some occasions it just 
depends on where the vibes are and how the energy 
bursts out. 

DW Don, what did you mean when you used the term 
redundant in referring to John's sculptures? 

Dj I was trying to use it in a particular way. I was say- 
ing something about the volume exceeding the struc- 
ture. That and the fact that the apeparance was 
concealing. The incredible volume — the volume 
exceeds the structure — it doesn't fit so nicely as 
structure usually does. The structure sort of rattles 
around in this big space. 

JC I think he means that the volume has a lot to do 
with the fit. The fit of a lot of pieces has a great 
deal to do with the volume in this particular case 
because there's air between it. But I think that be- 
cause of the kind of material it is, and it was worked 
at different ways at different stages, that in the 
build-up and assembly of such things a presence 
occurs. It's a presence which is met also by the 
balance and the rhvthm of the balances and the fit. 









I think this gives it what Don says is volume which 
I say is a presence. 

Both of you have used the wall, and I'm interested 
in how you feel about using the wall. 

Well I don't care too much for the wall. It allowed 
me to use that material in a bigger aspect. It's like 
this piece Don has, Mr. Press (illustrated p. 46), that 
he doesn't want to take off the wall because there's 
too much to move, see. But if it were that big out in 
the area off the wall, it would even be worse. 

What is the biggest piece you've done? 

The piece I did for the World's Fair. It's 15x8x4'. 

Did you think in terms of working that big before? 

No, I didn't care. I think even this paper bag, about 
6" high, is pretty big. I like that size better. It be- 
comes terribly immediate and if the scale is dealt 
with then the size has nothing to do with it. 

Do you get the same immediacy if you have to 
enlarge it? 

No, I don't think you have to at all. 

Between it, would there be an equivalent immediacy? 

It would be a whole different number. I'm just talk- 
ing about the size. It would probably be impossible 
to make that paper bag at that large a size. The 
delicacy wouldn't be there because of the weight. 

How did you arrive at the paper pieces? 

I had some idea that if you blew up a bag and then 
you popped it, that maybe you could catch the 
energy of the pop, somehow, and then it turned out 
that when they got wadded up whatever happened 
at the end of the fingers seemed to be more urgent 
and viable. So after a few of them I felt that by 
looking at the outside I would feel the inside. That 
interchange between the energy of the pop and what 
it might amount to or wherever the hell that thought 
came from, that changeover was fine. And then, 
alright, so paper is very delicate and it can burn and 
somebody will pick it up and throw it away very 
easily, so I sort of put color on it. I painted it little 

bits at a time with resin and let the resin run down 
in the crevices and things like that. And it gave it 
the support it needed without being completely 
coated and destroying the delicacy of the paper. 
Then whatever paint, or in this case, watercolor, 
that was thrown, picked up the color through some 
of the resin and didn't make it just all dreary brown. 
Some of them were pretty fantastic. 

DW Why did you decide to use foam? 

JC Well, the foam is very interesting to me. I thought 
it was very funny. And you can see the humor. I 
mean it's really instinctive and sexual. I tried work- 
ing it several different ways and I returned to the 
first way, which was tying it and squeezing it. I'm 
not too happy about it all, but you know there are 
a couple of good pieces somewhere. 

DW Did you like the idea of the cord? 

JC No, that doesn't matter. 

DW Donald talked before about composition as a term 
that had a lot of meaning. 

DJ Well, I was talking about whatever you want to call 
it — I mean structure, composition, form or anything 
in the pieces, in contrast to their appearance of not 
having any at first. But they really look like folded 

DW They look like what they are. 

DJ Yeah, at first. It's hard to see the structure, or fit 
or whatever. 

JC Yeah, alright, there's another thing going down 
with me right now, that I wanted to do some stain- 
less steel sculpture and this was on the tail of doing 
the transparent sculptures that I did at Larry Bell's 
last year. I wanted to do the stainless steel and coat 
them. It all sounded pretty good until I thought about 
it for a while and I found out that the material of 
the steel and the size would prohibit any color on 
it because it was just added. The sculptures looked 
like they didn't need the color which would only 
be like putting on a coat. But that kind of color is 
necessary to plastic. It really works in defining the 
form of the clear plastic. 


DW: I think that's why your color has always been good 
— even in the early crushed pieces. It was never 
additive color — it was always an integral part of 
the form. I remember that in the late 50's and early 
6o's, most polychrome sculpture was bad. It was 
simply painted on the form which yours never was. 

jc Well, at first because it's inherent in the whole proj- 
ect, rather than something added. 

DJ I was pretty interested in the two movies that you 
showed at Hunter. The very Chamberlainian color. 

ECB What's the connection between the two of you? 

JC We both have a certain sympathy towards each 
other's work. In this case Don's probably the only 
person who has that much sympathy towards my 
work. And I think that's because he liked my 

DJ Yeah, I did, but I liked the sculptures of course. 

JC There's been nothing said about the paintings, that 
I know of. Since I haven't gotten much feedback I 
don't know if the process or if the finished product, 
whatever it is, says what I feel. Which is several 

ECB Such as? 

JC Well, one is about arriving at a color through veils. 
There's a lot of coats of paint with very little color 
in a lot of clear. You just keep putting it on like that; 
finally after a while it builds up to a color but it isn't 
a color that's mixed and then put on. And then in 
that superstructure of a set of sc|uares, there is an 
idea about them being deep at some level with the 
color build-up. There was the idea that they would 
change color as the light changed, as most of them 
do. Some of them change color as you walk past 
them. But I was particularly interested in how to 
arrive at color. There was a thing that occurred 
during the process of the big ones. In painting them 
I had to mask everything off to paint one section. 
I found that when I painted it I could paint as long 
as I wanted. Listen, in one of them, I don't remember 
which one, I put down silver and I was going to put 
on candy yellow. I put on three coats of candy yellow 

and it turned pea green and it was fantastic. I took 
the masking off and you know I just liked the 
color. It fits, you know, so any color that you arrive 
at seemed to fit in any conjunction with the other 
colors. In other words, there was no finding the 
color in relationship to what was already there, but 
you arrived at the color by another means — by the 
process. I mean you just looked at the color, the 
paint made the color, and you looked at it and you 
could see there was nothing more to do to it. Any 
color went with any other color as long as the color 
was arrived at by some other means that was just as 
viable as one's choosing a selection of colors. Rather 
than selecting colors, you have to make sure that in 
the manner of painting, whatever you do feels good 
to you, or something like that. 

ECB How technically is it put on? 

JC Spray gun to mist method. You put on a color and 
you can change it. 

DJ One thing I liked about the paintings which inter- 
ested me because I've gotten into that with my 
paintings is they're just plain surface, they didn't 
have any spatial business. It's just a matter of sur- 
face. When you laid a color on, it didn't produce a 
spatial situation. It was just as you said, a veil over 
a coat over another color, which meant just like 
putting a little liquid on the table, you don't change 
the surface, it's just a case of one thing over another 
and it's the same surface. 

JC An absorption perhaps. 

D\v I think a lot of people were negative — extremely 
negative about them. I got that reaction. They 
looked like geometric paintings and I remember that 
people were offended by the color. 

DJ The thing is they aren't geometric paintings really. 
They're not involved in geometry but in their sur- 
faces — the arbitrariness of them gets them out of 
all that composition. They looked like latter-day 
Biederman or something like that. Initially, I think 
somehow maybe that's how people thought of them. 
Some big revolutionary change of mind on John's 


jc I liked the material of the paint, really that was 
where it went. But I had other concerns. All of those 
I think are important so that you keep the develop- 
ment up without losing the balance. 1 think you just 
keep working, sometimes you can't work. You know, 
any of us could sit down and figure out a million 
dollar project but it I were to stick you in three acres 
in Maui, and tell you that you go to come out of 
there with something tangible that hasn't been there, 
that becomes another form of limitation. The lim- 
itation is all around. If you had a whole plant as a 
resource, you could be just as befuddled as if you 
had to deal only with this table. So whatever comes 
along is fine with me — all I have to do is like it. 

D\v But don't you think the form was uncharacteristic? 

JC No, because I liked it. I like Albers work, you know, 
a lot and I felt that this came closest to it without any 
of his problems. 

Df Mostly, I'm sorry people have the presupposition 
of geometry versus anything else. 

DW You mean that it has to be one or the other — a fixed 
order, or that it represents two different kinds of 

Dj Yeah. 

JC That's what artists are. The artist is coming out of 
some kind of dissatisfaction into some kind of com- 
pany where you can deal with all that and every one 
feels that. 

DW Another thing that was upsetting was the type of 
color that was accepted at that time — 1965. 

DJ Maybe they would have accepted it on his regular 
pieces. It was exceedingly out of context in terms of 
most geometric work, but that depends on what was 
meant by geometric. 

JC Well, lacquer's a very old medium. That's the oldest 
paint. And because it has a transparency quality, and 
so on, I was interested. In California they call it 
"candyapple" which is a certain kind of base that re- 
flects through the clear with just a few drops of color 
in it. I was interested in that luminescent sort of 
thing and the fact of its thinness and how to control 

it by multiplying. I found out a lot about color 

ECB That gives a certain depth to the surface though, 
doesn't it? I mean it's not space in the sense that you 
were speaking of, but it's not an opaque surface 
either. It has a kind of optical depth. 

DJ It's part of the surface, you take it as a variation in 
the surface. 

ECB But you feel like you could see into it a bit, don't 

DJ Well, I don't think so in these paintings. If you add 
a slight layer here, you've got something to see into. 
But that's a physical thing, it's not that you're creat- 
ing two or three inches of illusionary space along- 
side. What you're looking into is really just the paint 
— the two or three layers of lacquer, that's all. 

JC I like the idea about the color. There is no bad color, 
there's no color decision to reject because everything 
is colored. 

DW But isn't that essentially a part of your thinking, 
even in the early sculptures? In other words, that 
there was no color relationship that was inherently 

JC Well perhaps, but I didn't know it as well as I did 
after I did these paintings. These forced the point 

DJ I think the earlier pieces are more relational in color. 

JC I don't remember ever tearing a sculpture apart be- 
cause the color was disagreeable, but I tore them 
apart because the form didn't fit. 

ECB But when you started making the colored pieces in 
the beginning, weren't those found colors? And then 
at a certain point didn't you change parts of the 

JC Yeah, about '6z I started painting them. I felt that 
the material needed a little help. 

DW So in this sense you were really creating — you had 
the material but it wasn't a form and you were creat- 
ing it all, weren't you? 

JC The material and the use of it. The process of the 
material makes the use. 


DW But it's not pre-existent. 

JC Yeah, well there were some attributes though that 
were perfectly normal in this case. I always liked the 
color change because of the way the color's put on. 
I think if it was just one flat color, one color, one 
coat and that's the color, these would change color 
as the light changes. 

D\v Why didn't you paint the galvanized pieces? 

JC I thought the earlier pieces didn't go as far as they 
should and I imagine that I painted them to get an- 
other element, whereas the galvanized pieces don't 
need to be painted. 

DW Why? 

JC Well, they extend pretty much — they have their 
own color. 

DW Where were the early galvanized pieces from? 

JC Well, I had boxes made and went to a place on 
White Street and crushed them. 

DW Did you have particular shapes made, or just boxes? 

JC There were something like 30 boxes and some boxes 
had liners in them. The liners gave it body and added 
dimension — a certain weight that I had in mind. 

DW What about process? 

JC Well, as I think back on it, it's only recently that I 
can say anything about it really, and as 1 remember 
even as — ever since I got impressed with the sculp- 
ture it's always been that I really don't remember if 
I have ever done anything where process wasn't the 
point of view. In other words, I went through the 
number, but whatever came out was what came out. 
Nothing has ever been premeditated. It's only re- 
cently that the process has been a big enough num- 
ber to talk about. 

DW Well, it was to a certain extent in the 50's though. 
What about Pollock? 

JC Well, that's how I look at it. I think that's true. I 
believe it was. He wanted to get away from easel 

painting and had some ideas about mural painting. 
But that was only the size and the scale. In other 
words, his breeding had something to do with the 
scale he wanted to choose. He was wrapped up in 
this fine art number, like easel painting and mural 
painting and he wanted to be free later on to walk 
around the painting. 

DJ Those paintings, too, have a sort of concealment of 
something like your sculpture, which is curious. You 
know everybody's work is sort of unintelligible; they 
really do tend to look like junk or car parts or some- 
thing. They don't make sense initially — you don't 
know what they are or it doesn't look esthetic or 
it's beyond what other people's work would look 
like. In a way that geometric scheme is sort of a 
concealment too, like a randomness of car parts, 
or junk or something. I know the plastic pieces I 
know very well; sometimes the composition or the 
form doesn't show and it just turns it into junk or 
something. It's peculiar — all that structure isn't evi- 
dent at first. 

JC I find that rather than dealing with composition, 
to me composition has some sort of pre-idea of the 
order of a certain gi\en space of a given area that's 
been composed. And, in this case it has to do with 
fit — how the parts fit and where they stand and in 
what kind of balance and rhythms they give off as 
vibration, in terms of my choice which would be 
close to a kind of partnership in terms of the balances 
and rhythms that have to do with me, plus the ma- 
terial as it's fitted. Now all those pieces are very well 
fitted and I think that's a more interesting attitude 
towards looking at it than just composition. Com- 
position could be like taking something out here or 
there that could be the composition and it wouldn't 
matter whether I touched it or not. But the sculp- 
tures have to do with contact — either when you can 
touch yourself or when you shake hands with some- 
body. Shaking hands has a lot to do with fit; it also 
has to do with the vibration of the person you shake 
hands with — whether you prefer it or not, whether 
you feel cold hands or sweaty hands — it's all these 
points about shaking hands, but it's fit and you can 
tell a lot that way. 


2 Projectile D.S.N.Y. i957 

3 Cord. 1957 


BalLmtine. 1957 


17 X 48" 

Collection Mr. and Mrs. Allan Stone, New York 

Not in exhibition. 


4 Shortstop. 1957 

6 Nutcracker. 1958 


5 Waumandie Gate. 1958 



1 ^ 










7 Manitou. 1959 


8 H.A.W.K. 1959 


9 Wildroot. 1959 

14 ]o-So. i960 

10 Swannanoa. 1959 

15 Redwing, i960 

16 Hudson, i960 


17 Maz. i960 

83 Norma Jean Rising. 1967 

18 falconer-Fitten. i960 


47 Dolores ]a>nes. i<)6z 


20 Essex, i960 

19 Hatband, i960 



42 Miss Lucy Pink. 1961 

11 Johnity Bird.\i)%ci 

22 Untitled. 1961 


32 Bijou. 1961 



91 Untitled. 1969 


Tung Ting Hu. 1967. Urcthane foam, 37^/4 x 54 x 51%" 

26 Captain O'Hay. 1961 

27 Jackpot. 1961 


Mr. Press. 1961. Welded and painted steel, 95 x 90 x 50" 
Collection Julie and Don Judd, New York 
Not in exhibition. 

29 Score. 1961 


102 V?ititled. 1970 


23 Untitled. 1561 


28 Huzzy- 1961 


24 Oteen. 1961 

21 Kroll. 1961 

30 Fantail. 1961 

46 Hollywood John. i^6z 

44 Velvet White. 1962 



41 Arch Brown. 1962. 

45 Coo "Wha Zee. 196Z 

mt ' 

43 Sweet William. 1962 

37 Sinclair. 1962 

35 El Reno. 196Z 


48 Untitled. 1961 


34 Untitled. 196Z. 

40 Spiro. 1962 

Mozo. 196Z 

Welded and painted steel 

4Z X 50 X 30" 

Collection Leo Castelli Gallery, Ne%v York 

Not in exhibition 



56 Elvis. 1963 

52 Orlons. 1963 


55 Jan and Dean. 1963 


50 Silverheels. 1963 

51 Mr. Moto. 1963 


Che-Che. 1963 

Welded and painted steel 

60 X 60" 

Collection Leo Castelli Gallery, New York 

Not in exhibition 


49 Buckshutam. 1963 



■^ - ■ 


^tm-'' - 


-•>p?(aK_ *. 




Ruby-Ruby. 1963 

Welded and painted steel 

35 X 37" 

Collection Leo Castelli Gallery, New York 

Not in exhibition 

58 Dogstarman (Stan Brakhage). 19S4 

59 Sugar Tit. 1964 

57 Madam Moon. 1964 


60 Conrad. 1964 


63 Dixie Cups. 1964 


66 The Rolling Stones. 15S5 


71 Homer Jack. 1^6$ 


70 Tomahawk Nolan. 1965 

75 Kootan. 1967 




76 Hua. 1967 

80 Soopad. 1967 


78 Strawberry Mush. 1967 


Lilith Neif Moon. 1967 

Galvanized steel 






85 Coma Berenices — North of Virgo. 1967 


Angel Beyond Opio. 1967 

Galvanized steel 
8z X 48 X 48" 


86 Knightsbridge Slug. 1968 


87 Whitmore ^ash. 1968-69 


89 Coco Nino. 1969 

'■'- " - '-^--" . . ■ 


Untitled. 1969 


90 Iron Stone. 1969 


103 Potacca. 1970 


«-"a ^c) Oraibi. 1970 

101 Hano. 1970 


r^ ^.^Itl^Kpk 




A 1 



llJlJK .- "^ 





- -^^ 










1 -^-^^^ 








-^ ^^mtSj^^M 


■ ,; ^»^' 





' " " 1 







98 Shuiigospai'i 1970 


100 Dinnebito. 1970 

104 Zihi-Dush-]hini. 1970 


Dimensions are given in the following order: 
height, width, depth, 
''not illustrated 

1 ''Untitled. 1957 
Oil on paper 
91/2 X 10" 

Lent by the artist 

2 Projectile D.S.N.Y. 1957 

20 X 35 X 10" 

Collection American Broadcasting Companies, Inc., 

New York 

3 Cord. 1957 

i6x izx 10" 

Collection Mr. and Mrs. Allan Stone, New York 

4 Shortstop. 1957 
Welded and painted steel 

Collection Richard Bellamy, New York 

5 Waumafidie Gate. 19^8 

85 X 29V2 X li" 

Collection Da\id Anderson, New York 

6 Nutcracker. 1958 
Welded and painted steel 
50 X 50 X 30" 

Collection Mr. and Mrs. Allan Stone, New York 


7 Maniton. 1959 
Welded and painted steel 

13 X14X3" 

Courtesy Martha Jackson Gallery, Inc., New York 

8 H.A.W.K. 1959 
Welded and painted steel 
60 X 60 X 60" 

Collection Mr. and Mrs. Allan Stone, New York 

9 Wildroot. 1959 
Welded and painted steel 
68% X 52% X 35%" 

Sammlung Karl Stroher im Hessischen 
Landesmuseum, Darmstadt, Germany 

10 Swaimatioa. 1959 
Welded and painted steel 
45 y4 X64V2 X 35" 

Courtesy Martha Jackson Gallery, Inc., New York 

11 Johnny Bird, i^^^ 
Welded and painted steel 
59x53 X 451/2" 

Collection Sydney and Frances Lewis, 
Richmond, Virginia 

12 "Untitled, i960 

14 X 17" 

Lent by the artist 

13 ''Untitled, i960 

14 X 17" 

Lent by the artist 

14 ]o-So. i960 

Welded and painted steel 

z6xzix 23" 

Courtesy Martha Jackson Gallery, Inc., New York 

15 Redwing, i960 
Welded and painted steel 
40 X 38 X 14" 

Collection Dolores and Hubert Neumann, 
New York 

16 Hudson, i960 
Welded and painted steel 
Z7 X 27 X 1 2" 

Collection Mr. and Mrs. Allan Stone, New York 

17 Maz. i960 

Welded and painted steel 

42 X 45 X 44" 

Collection Fine Arts Museum, George Peabody 

College, Nashville, Tennessee 

18 Falconer-Fitten. i960 
Welded and painted steel 

Collection Mr. and Mrs. Allan Stone, New York 

19 Hatbajid. i960 
Welded and painted steel 
60 X 53 x 36" 

Collection Mr. and Mrs. Stanley Poler, New York 

20 Essex, i960 

Welded and painted steel 

108 x 90x46" 

Collection The Museum of Modern Art, New York, 

Gift of Mr. and Mrs. Robert C. Scull 

and Purchase, 1961 

21 Kroll.1961 

Welded and painted steel 

26x 34X 24" 

Collection Albright-Knox Art Gallery, 

Buffalo, New York (Gift of Seymour H. Knox) 

22 Untitled. 1961 

Welded and painted steel with fabric 

12 X 12x4^/4" 

Collection A4r. and Mrs. Allan Stone, New York 

23 Untitled. 1961 
Paper and steel 

I2X I2X 4%" 

Collection Flavin Judd, New York 

24 Oteen. 1961 

Welded and painted steel 

241/2 X 36 X 26V2" 

Collection Mr. and Mrs. Brooks Barron, Detroit 


25 ''Tiny Piece #4. 1961 
Welded and painted steel 
61/2 X 61/2 X 6V2" 
Collection Mrs. Marcel Duchamp, New York 

16 Captain O'Hay. 1961 
Welded and painted steel 
Courtesy Locksley-Shea Gallery, Minneapolis 

27 Jackpot. 1961 

Welded and painted steel with gilt cardboard 

61 X 58 X46" 

Collection Andy Warhol, New York 

28 Huzzy. 1961 

Welded and painted steel with fabric 

54 X 33 X 2l" 

Collection William Rockhill Nelson Gallery and 

Atkins Museum of Fine Arts, Kansas City. 

(Gift of Mrs. Charles F. Buckwalter in memory 

of Charles F. Buckwalter) 

29 Score, 1961 

Welded and painted steel 

■yzxyzx 23" 

Collection Dolores and Hubert Neumann, 

New York 

30 Faiitail. 1961 

Welded and painted steel 

70 X 75 X 60" 

Collection Jasper Johns, New York 

31 -'Untitled. 1961 

Painted steel, paper and cloth on celotex 

12V2 X II X 5" 

Private Collection, New York 

32 Bijou. 1961 

Welded and painted steel 

36 X 72 X 24" 

Collection Heiner Fricdrich, Cologne 

33 '''Untitled. 1962 
Welded and painted steel 
16 X II X9V2" 

Private Collection, New York 

34 Untitled. 1962 
Welded and painted steel 

Collection Mr. and Mrs. Herbert Vogel, New York 

35 El Reno, 1962 
Welded and painted steel 

Collection Mr. and Mrs. AKin S. Lane, New York 

36 ''Atlantic. 1962 

Steel and fabric on board 

12 X 12 X 5" 

Collection Mr. and Mrs. Michael Sundell, Cleveland 

37 Sinclair. 1962 

Welded and painted steel 

4% x6y2 X 41/2" 

Collection Mr. and Mrs. Burton Tremaine, 

Meriden, Connecticut 

38 ''Untitled. 1962 

Steel and fabric on board 

9 X 1 3 X 3 V2 " 

Collection Dr. and A4rs. Nathan Alpers, 

Beverly Hills 

39 ''Beli'o-Violet. 1962 

Welded and painted steel with unit of 

pressed metal ceiling 

50 X 50 X 30" 

Collection Frank Stella, New York 

40 Spiro. 196Z 

Welded and painted steel 

29 X 36 X 26" 

Collection Mr. and Mrs. Brooks Barron, Detroit 

41 Arch Brown. 196Z 
Welded and painted steel 

Collection Mr. and Mrs. Burton Tremaine, 
Meriden, Connecticut 

42 Miss Lucy Pink. i<)6z 
Welded and painted steel 
45 X 50 x 40" 

Lent by the artist 


43 Siveet William. 1962 
Welded and painted steel 
69 X 48 X 62" 

Collection Los Angeles County Museum of Art, 

Gift of Mr. and Mrs. Abe Adler, 

In Memory of Mrs. Esther Steif Rosen 

44 Velvet White. 1962 
Welded and painted steel 

Collection Whitney Museum of American Art, 

New York. 

Gift of the Albert A. List Family 

45 Coo Wha Zee. i^6z 
Welded and painted steel 
72 X 60 X 50" 

Collection Detroit Institute of Arts. 
Gift of Florence and Brooks Barron 

46 Hollytvood John. 196Z 
Welded and painted steel 
64 X 60 X 43" 

Collection Julie and Don Judd, New York 

47 Dolores James. 1961 
Welded and painted steel 
79 X 97 X 39" 

Collection The Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, 
New York 

48 Untitled. 1962 

Steel, paper, fabric on pressed board 
izx 12 X 4V2" 

Collection Pasadena Art Museum. 
Gift of Mr. and Mrs. Michael Blankfort 

49 Buckshiitat7t. 1963 
Welded and painted steel 

Collection Julie and Don Judd, New York 

50 Silverheels. 1963 
Welded and painted steel 
46x41 X36" 

Collection Mr. and Mrs. Leo Castelli, New York 

51 Mr.Moto. 1963 
Welded and painted steel 
291/2 X 32X 23" 

Collection Mr. and Mrs. Robert A. Rowan, 
Los Angeles 

52 Orlons. 1963 

Auto lacquer on masonite 

12 X 12" 

Collection Mr. and Mrs. Seymour Schweber, 

Great Neck, New York 

53 ''Joey Dee, 1963 

Auto lacquer on masonite 

IZX 12" 

Collection Mr. and Mrs. Seymour Schweber, 

Great Neck, New York 

54 ''Dion. 1963 

Auto lacquer on masonite 

12 X 12" 

Collection Mr. and Mrs. Seymour Schweber, 

Great Neck, New York 

55 Jan and Dean. 196} 
Auto lacquer on masonite 

Collection Mr. and Mrs. Harry Glasgall, New York 

56 Elvis. 1963 

Auto lacquer on masonite 

12 x 12" 

Collection Mr. and Mrs. Seymour Schweber, 

Great Neck, New York 

57 Madam Moon. 1964 
Welded and painted steel 
19 X 29 X 21" 

Collection Mr. and Mrs. Robert A. Rowan, 
Los Angeles 

58 Dogstarman (Stan Brakhage). 1964 
Welded and painted steel 

Collection Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Mones, New York 

59 Sugar Tit. 1964 
Welded and painted steel 
36 X 38 X 26" 

Collection Mr. and Mrs. Ivan C. Karp, New York 


60 Conrad. 1964 

Auto lacquer, metalflake and chrome on formica 


Collection Mickey Ruskin, New York 

61 ''Zia. 1964 

Auto lacquer, metalflake and chrome on formica 


Collection Rainer Judd, New York 

62 '-Rock-Ola. 1964 

Auto lacquer, metalflake and chrome on formica 


Collection Julie and Don Judd, New York 

63 Dixie Cups. 1964 

Auto lacquer and metalflake on formica 
12 X 12" 

Collection Mr. and Mrs. Seymour Schweber, 
Great Neck, New York 

64 '''Marquees. 1964 

Auto lacquer and metalflake on formica 


Collection Mr. and Mrs. Seymour Schweber, 

Great Neck, New York 

65 '' Shangri-la' s. 1964 
Auto lacquer on formica 
12 x 12" 

Lentby the artist 

66 The Rolling Stones. 196s 
Auto lacquer on formica 
12 x 12" 

Collection Shangopolo 

67 ''Kinks. 1965 

Auto lacquer on formica 

izx 12" 

Collection John W. Weber, New York 

68 ''Cannibal and the Headhunters. 1965 
Auto lacquer on formica 

12 X 12" 

Collection Jerald Ordover, New York 

69 '''Untitled. 1965 
Welded and painted steel 
8% X 12 X 9" 

Collection Charles Cowles, New York 

70 Tomahawk Nolan. 1965 
Welded and painted steel 
44 X 50 X 45" 

Collection Philip Johnson, New Canaan, 

71 Homer Jack. 196^ 
Welded and painted steel 
19 X 19 X 19" 

Collection Mr. and Mrs. Fredric M. Roberts, 
Lawrence, New York 

71 "'Untitled (No. 26}. 1966 
Urethane foam 
15V4 X 231/2 X 23 V2" 

Courtesy Noah Goldowsky and Richard Bellamy, 
New York 

73 "Untitled (No. 33). 1966 
Urethane foam 

15 X 26 X z6" 

Collection Richard Bellamy, New York 

74 "Untitled (No. 34). 1966 
Urethane foam 

12 X 24 Va X 2iy2" 

Collection Richard Artschwager, New York 

75 Kootan. 1967 
Urethane foam 
22 X 36 X 27" 

Collection Wolfgang Hahn, Cologne 

76 Hua. 196-] 
Urethane foam 

Collection Mr. and Mrs. Jared Sable, Toronto 

77 '''Untitled. 1967 
Urethane foam 
14X 14X 12" 

Collection The Trustees of the Tate Gallery, London 


78 Strawberry Mush. -L$6j 
24x48 X48" 
Collection Shangopolo 

79 ■'Fuswah. x^G-j 
Urethane foam 
27x41 X 38" 
Lent by the artist 

80 Soopad. 1967 
Urethane foam 
Lent by the artist 

81 LopNor. 1967 
Urethane foam 
38 X 53 X48" 

Courtesy Lo Giudice, New York 

82 ''Papagayo. 1967 
Galvanized steel 
72 X 44 X 46" 

Collection Andy Warhol, New York 

83 Nortna Jean Risifig. 196-/ 
Galvanized steel 

Courtesy Lo Giudice, New York 

84 "Ultima Thule. 1967 
Galvanized steel 
64x44 X 36" 

Collection Samuel J. "Wagstaff, Jr., New York 

85 Coma Berenices — North of Virgo. 196J 
Galvanized steel 

671/2 X 77 X 60" 

Courtesy Lo Giudice, New York 

86 Kftightsbridge Slug. 1968 
Galvanized steel 

Z3y2 X 2iy2 X 19" 

Collection Mr. and Mrs. William M. Speiller, 

Washington, D.C. 

87 WhitmoreWash.i96S-69 
Welded and painted steel 
5 2 X 49 X 40" 

Courtesy Lo Giudice, New York 

88 Untitled. 1969 
Galvanized iron 


Collection Elizabeth C. Baker, New York 

89 Coco Nino. 1969 
Welded and painted steel 
58y2 X77X 60V2" 

Courtesy Locksley-Shea Gallery, Minneapolis 

90 Iron Stone. 1969 
Welded and painted steel 
40X48V2 X44" 

Collection Walter Kelly, Chicago 

91 Untitled. 1969 

Paper, resin and watercolor 
7V8 X 8% X 6" 
Collection Shangopolo 

92 ''Untitled. 1969 

Paper, resin and watercolor 
5 ¥2 X 5% x6" 
Lent by the artist 

93 -'Untitled. 1969 

Paper, resin and watercolor 
4y2 X5V2 xsW 
Lent by the artist 


94 'Untitled. 1969 

Paper, resin and watercolor 


Courtesy Lo Giudice, New York 

95 '''A. 1969-70 
Urethane foam 
14 X ijVz X 17" 
Lent by the artist 

96 ''B. 1969-70 
Urethane foam 

13% X ZZy2 X 24" 

Lent by the artist 

97 ''C. 1969-70 
Urethane foam 
izVz X 17 X 21" 
Lent by the artist 

98 Shimgospavi. 1970 
Mineral-coated melted plexiglas 
30 X 58 X 58" 

Courtesy Leo CastelH Gallery, New York 

99 Oraibi. 1970 
Mineral-coated melted plexiglas 
27 X 38 X45" 

Courtesy Leo Castelli Gallery, New York 

100 Dinnebito. 1970 
Mineral-coated melted plexiglas 

Courtesy Lo Giudice, New York 

101 Hano. 1970 
Mineral-coated melted plexiglas 

Courtesy Leo Castelli Gallery, New York 

102 Untitled. 1970 
Mineral-coated melted plexiglas 

Lent by the artist 

103 Polacca. 1970 
Mineral-coated melted plexiglas 
22 x 39 X 46" 

Courtesy Lo Giudice, New York 

104 Zihi-Dush-Jhini. 1970 
Mineral-coated melted plexiglas 

Courtesy Lo Giudice, New York 

105 "M.A.A.B.1971 

Welded and painted steel 

50 X 78 X 50" 

Courtesy Lo Giudice, New York 

106 'N.D.W. 1971 

Painted and welded steel 

50 X 66 X 62" 

Courtesy Lo Giudice, New York 

107 "Untitled. 1971 

Aluminum foil 
4 X 6 X 6V2" 
Lent by the artist 

108 "Untitled. 1971 

Aluminum foil 


Lent by the artist 

109 '-Untitled. 1971 

Aluminum foil 
31/2 X 7V2 X 6" 
Lent by the artist 




Born Rochester, Indiana, 1927. 
Lives in New York City. 

Films by the Artist (16 mm.) 

"The Secret Life of Hernando Cortez," 1968. 
"Wedding Night," 1967. 
"Wide Point," 1968. 
"Thumbsuck," in progress. 

On the Artist 


Seuphor, Michel, The Sculpture of this Century, Dictionary of 
Modern Sculpture, London, 1959, p. 2.49. 

Janis, Harriet and Rudi Blesh, Collage: Personalities-Concepts- 
Techniques, Philadelphia and New York, 1962, pp. 145-46, 249. 

Metro, International Directory of Contemporary Art, Milan, 
1964, pp. 74-75. 

Read, Herbert, A Concise History of Modern Sculpture, New 
York, 1964, pp. 225, 270, 290. 

Ashton, Dore, Modern American Sculpture, New York, 1967, 
pp. 38, 89. 

Licht, Fred, A History of Western Sctdpture: Sculpture of the 
i^th a7id 10th Centuries, Greenwich, Connecticut, 1967, p. 341. 

Rose, Barbara, American Art Since i<)oo. New York, Washing- 
ton, 1967, pp. 262-63. 

Solomon, Alan and Ugo Mulas, Neic York: The New Art 
Scene, New York, 1967, pp. 114-24. 

Arnason, H.H., A History of Modern Art: Painting, Sculpture 
ajjd Architecture, New York, 1968, p. 570. 

Kultermann, Udo, The New Sculpture, New York, Washing- 
ton, 1968, pp. 98-99, 2l8. 

Hammacher, A.M., The Evolution of Modern Sctdpture, New 
York, 1969, pp. 293, 299. 

Rosenberg, Harold, Artworks and Packages, New York, 1969, 
p. 109. 

Hamilton, George Heard, it)th and 10th Century Art: Painting, 
Sculpture, Architecture, New York, 1970, p. 387. 

Rose, Barbara, American Painting, the 10th Century, Geneva, 
1970, p. 60. 



Ashton, Dore, "La Sculpture Aniericaine," XX Steele, vol. 22, 
no. 15, December i960, p. 91. 

"Chamberlain's Automobiles," Metro, no. 2, May 1961, pp. 

Judd, Donald, "Chamberlain — Another View," Art httermi- 
tional, vol. 7, no. 10, January 1964, pp. 38-39. 

Rose, Barbara, "How to Look at John Chamberlain's Sculp- 
ture," Art International, vol. 7, no. 10, January 1964, pp. 36-38. 

Leider, Philip, "A New Medium for John Chamberlain," Art- 
fortim, voL 5, no. 6, February 1967, pp. 48-49. 

Baker, Elizabeth C, The Secret Life of John Chamberlain," 
Art Neivs, vol. 68, no. 2, April 1969, pp. 48-51, 63-64. 

Tuchman, Phyllis, "Interview with John Chamberlain," Art- 
forum, vol. 10, January, 1972. 

One-Man Exhibitions and Reviews 

Wells Street Gallery, Chicago, 1957. 

Martha Jackson Gallery, New York, January 5-30, i960. 
Poster announcement. 

S[andler], I[rving], H., Art News, vol. 58, no. 9, January i960, 
p. 18. 

J[udd], D[onald], Arts Magazine, vol. 34, no. 5, February 
i960, p. 57. 

Ashton, D[ore], Arts and Architecture, vol. 77, no. 3, March 
i960, p. II. 

Leo Castelli Gallery, New York, January i3-February 6, 1962. 

O'Doherty, Brian, "Art: Transformed Scrap," The New York 
Times, January 19, 1962. 

Sandler, Irving, "In the Art Galleries," The New York Post, 
January 21, 1962. 

E[dgar], N[atalie], Art News, vol. 60, no. 10, February 1962, 
p. 15. 

Ashton, Dore, Arts and Architecture, vol. 79, no. 3, March 
1962, p. 6. 

Judd, Donald, Arts Magazine, vol. 36, no. 6, March 1962, p. 48. 
Sawyer, Kenneth, Craft Horizons, vol. 22, no. 3, May 1962, 

Dilexi Gallery, Los Angeles, November 5-December i, 1962. 

Dilexi Gallery, San Francisco, December 17, 1962-January 5, 

1963. Announcement. 

Pace Gallery, Boston, November i6-December 7, 1963. An- 

Leo Castelli Gallery, New York, April 11-30, 1964. Announce- 

J[udd], D[onald], Arts Magazine, vol. 38, no. 10, Septem- 
ber 1964, p. 71. 

S[wenson], G[ene] R., Art News, vol. 63, no. 5, September 

1964, p. 10. 

Galerie Ileana Sonnabend, Paris, April 8-May 4, 1964. Cata- 

Ashberry, John, "Art and Artists in Paris," The New York 
Herald Tribune, April 14, 1964. 

Leo Castelli Gallery, New York, Paintings, January 9-27, 1965. 

E[dgar], N[atalie], Art News, vol. 63, no. 10, February 1965, 
p. 13. 

Lippard, Lucy R., Art International, vol. 9, no. 3, .■\pril 1965, 
P- 53- 

Dwan Gallery, Los Angeles, November 29,i966-January7, 1967. 
Langsner, Jules, Art Neics, vol. 65, no. 9, January 1967, p. 63. 

Cleveland Museum of Art, January 3-29, 1967. Catalogue text 
by Robert Henning. 

Galerie Rudolf Zwirner, Cologne, October lo-November 9, 
1967. Announcement. 

Contemporary Arts Center, Cincinnati, Ohio, 1968. 

Leo Castelli Warehouse, New Y'ork, February 1-22, 1969. 
Poster announcement. 

Schjeldahl, Peter, "The Vicissitudes of Sculpture," The Neir 
York Times, February 9, 1969. 

B[enedikt], M[ichael], Artforwn, vol. 7, no. 8, April 1969, 
p. 72. 

Mizuno Gallery, Los Angeles, October 1969. 

Armstrong, Lois, Art News, vol. 68, no. 8, December 1969, 


Plagens, Peter, Artforum, vol. 8, no. 4, December 1969, p. 74. 


Lo Giudice Gallery, Chicago, Soft and Hard/Recent Sculpture, 
opened February ii, 1970. Poster announcement. 

"Fashions in Living: John Chamberlain's Environments," 
Vogue, April 15, 1970, p. 154. 

Locksley-Shea Gallery, Minneapolis, John Chamberlain: Min- 
neapolis Couches, May 1-30, 1970. Announcement. 

Leo Castelli Gallery, New York, April 17-May 8, 1971- 
Canaday, John, "John Chamberlain's Sculptures," The New 
York Times, April 24, 1971, p. 25. 

Two-Man Exhibitions and Reviews 

Davida Gallery, Chicago, April 9-May 5, 1958, with Joseph 

V[entura], A[nita], Arts Magazine, vol. 32, no. 7, April 1958, 
p. 61. 

Leo Castelli Gallery, New York, October i6-November 7, 1962, 
with Frank Stella. 

Ashton, Dore, Kunstwerk, vol. 16, no. 5, November 1962, p. 6'). 

Raynor, Vivian, Arts Magazine, vol. 37, no. 3 December 1962, 
p. 46. 

S[andler], I[rving], Art Neivs, vol. 61, no. 8, December 1962, 

Robert Fraser Gallery, London, Two American Sculptors: 
Chamberlain/ Stankiewicz, May 14-June 18, 1963. 

Galerie Rudolf Zwirner, Cologne, Allan D'Arcangelo and John 
Chamberlain, March 6-April 15, 1965. 

Group Exhibitions and Reviews 

Hansa Gallery, New York, November 3-22, 1958. 

Martha Jackson Gallery, New York, The Enormous Room, 
January 2-23, 1959. 

P[orter], F [airfield], Art Neu's, vol. 57, no. 9, January 1959, 
p. 17. 

The Museum of Modern Art, New York, Recent Sculpture: 
USA, May 13-August 16, 1959. Organized by the Junior Coun- 
cil. Catalogue introductions by James Thrall Soby and Walter 
Bareiss. Traveled in the United States through October i960. 
Kramer, Hilton, Arts Magazine, vol. 33, no. 9, June 1959, p. 50. 

Hansa Gallery, New York, May 15-June 6, 1959. 

Leo Castelli Gallery, New York, Work in Three Dimensions, 
October 20-November 17, 1959. Announcement. 

Galerie Rive Droit, Paris, Le Nouveau Realisme, June i960. 
Catalogue essays by John Ashberry and Pierre Restany. 

Martha Jackson Gallery, New York, New Forms — New Me- 
dia I, June 6-24, i960. 

Stable Gallery, New York, Sculpture Group: Fifth Exhibition, 
September 27-October 15, i960. 

Martha Jackson Gallery, New York, New Forms — New Me- 
dia II, September 27-October 22, i960. Catalogue essays by 
Lawrence Alloway and Allan Kaprow. 

Whitney Museum of American Art, New York, Annual Exhi- 
bition 1^60, Sculpture and Drawings, December 7, i96o-Jan- 
uary 22, 1961. Catalogue. 

Holland-Goldowsky Gallery, Chicago, New Sculpture Group, 
March 1961. 

Friedlander, Albert A., "Sculpture Show Satisfying," Chicago 
Daily News, March 25, 1961. 

Allen Memorial Art Museum, Oberlin, Ohio, Three Yoimg 
Americans, April 28-May 28, 1961. Catalogue published in 
Oberlin College, Allen Memorial Art Museum Bulletin, "Three 
Young Americans," Fall 1961, vol. 19, no. i, pp. 52-57. Essay 
by Forbes Whiteside. 

Leo Castelli Gallery, New York, Sculpture and Relief, May 
23-June 30, 1961. Announcement. 

VI Bienal de Sao Paulo, Brazil, September-December 1961. 
Kimstwerk, vol. 15, no. 7, January 1952, p. 31. 

The Museum of Modern Art, New York, The Art of Assem- 
blage, October 2-November 12, 1961. Catalogue text by 
William C. Seitz. Traveled to Dallas Museum for Contempo- 
rary Arts, January 9-February 11, 1962; San Francisco Museum 
of Art, March 5-April 15, 1962. 

Houston Contemporary Arts Association, Ways and Means, 
opened October 12, 1961. 

Dwan Gallery, Los Angeles, Six Sculptors, October 16-N0- 
vember 11, 1961. 

Nordland, Gerald, Arts Magazine, vol. 36, no. 3, December 

Department of Fine Arts, Carnegie Institute, Pittsburgh, The 
1^61 Pittsburgh International Exhibition of Contemporary 
Painting and Sculpture, October 27, 1961-January 7, 1962. 

The Art Institute of Chicago, 6^th Annual American Exhibi- 
tioti: So7ne Directions in Contemporary Paintittg and Sculp- 
ture, January 5-February 18, 1962. 

Leo Castelli Gallery, New York, Group, April 7-21, 1962. 

Seattle World's Fair, Art Since 19/0, April 21-October 21, 1962. 
Traveled to Rose Art Museum, Brandeis University, Waltham, 

Providence Art Club, Rhode Island, Some Directions in Mod- 
ern Sculpture, May 13-June 8, 1962. 

Centro de Artes Visuales del Instituto Torcuato di Telia, 
Buenos Aires, First International Sculpture Exhibition, Septem- 
ber 1962. 

Leo Castelli Gallery, New York, Group, September 22-October 
13, 1962. Announcement. 

The Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New York, Modern 
Sculpture from the Joseph H. Hirshhorn Collection, October 3, 
1962-January 6, 1963. Catalogue text by H. H. Arnason. 

Robbins, Daniel, Apollo, vol. 76, no. 9, November 1962, p. 720. 
Roberts, Colette, Aujourd'hui, vol. 7, no. 39, November 1962, 
p. 50. 

Whitney Museum of American Art, New York, Annual Ex- 
hibition 1962, Sculpture and Drawings, December 12, 1962- 
February 3, 1963. Catalogue. 

Boston University Art Gallery, Six Sculptors, March 30-April 
25, 1963. 

Leo Castelli Gallery, New York, Group, April 2-25, 1963. 

Battersea Park, London, Scidpture in the Open Air, May 29- 
September 29, 1963. 

Musee Cantonal des Beaux Arts, Lausanne, ler Salon Inter- 
nationale de Galeries Pilotes, June-September 1963. 


Washington Gallery of Modern Art, Washington, D.C., Sculp- 
tors of our Time, September 17-October 31, 1963. Catalogue 
texts by Adelyn Breeskin and Andrew S. Keck. 

Allan Stone Gallery, New York, Four Sculptors: Robert Mal- 
lary-]ohn Chamberlain-John Anderson-Cesar, October 1-19, 

1963. Announcement with checklist. 

Leo Castelli Gallery, New York, Group, February z-March 11, 

1964. Announcement. 

Pasadena Art Museum, California, Neii> American Sculpture, 
February ii-March 7, 1964. 

Coplans, John, Artforum, vol. 11, no. 10, April 1964, pp. 38-40. 

Institute of Contemporary Art, University of Pennsylvania, 
Philadelphia, The Atmosphere of '64, April 17-June i, 1964. 

Tate Gallery, London, Painting and Sculpture of a Decade: 
J4-64, April ii-June 2.8, 1964. 

Leo Castelli Gallery, New York, Group, June 6-30, 1964. 

XXXIl Biennale Internazionale d'Arte Venezia, Venice, June 
20-Octobr 19, 1964. 

Jewish Museum, New York, Recent American Sculpture, 
October 15-November 19, 1964. Catalogue te.xt by Hans van 
Weeren Griek, "John Chamberlain" by Robert Greeley, pp. 

Whitney Museum of American Art, New York, Annual Ex- 
hibition 1964; Contemporary American Sculpture, December 
9, 1964-January 31, 1965. Catalogue. 

New York State Pavilion, World's Fair, New York, Group, 

Johnson, Philip, Art In America, vol. 52, no. 4, August 1964, 
p. 117. 

Institute of Contemporary Art, Boston, The Biennale Eight, 
June 20-July 26, 1964. Catalogue by Alan Solomon. 

David Mirvish Gallery, Toronto, XIXX International Artists, 
April ii-May 3, 1964. Catalogue. 

Herron Museum of Art, Indianapolis, Indiana, Paintings and 
Sculpture Today, January 1-31, 1965. 

Flint Institute of Art, Flint, Michigan, American Sculpture, 
j<)oo-j')^o, March 3-28, 1965. 

Institute of Contemporary Art, Boston, Painting Without a 
Brush, March 20-April 25, 1965. Catalogue. 

Whitney Museum of American Art, New York, Contemporary 
American Sculpture: Sculpture Selection I, April 20-May 15, 

1965. Assembled by the Howard and Jean Lipman Founda- 
tion and the Whitney Museum of American Art. Catalogue. 

Institute of Contemporary Art, University of Pennsylvania, 
Philadelphia, Seven Sculptors, December i, 1965-January 17, 

1966. Catalogue text "John Chamberlain" by Donald Judd. 

Leo Castelli Gallery, New York, Ten Years, June 1-30, 1967. 

A[nn] T[annenbaum], Art News, vol. 66, no. 4, Summer 

1967. p. 13. 

The Museum of Modern Art, New York, The 1960's: Painting 
and Sculpture from the Museum Collection, June 28- 
September 24, 1967. Catalogue. 

Museum of Art, Carnegie Institute, Pittsburgh, J967 Pittsburgh 
International Exhibition of Contemporary Painting and Sculp- 
ture, October 27-January 7, 1967. Catalogue. 

Neue Pinakothek, Haus der Kunst, Munich, Sammlung 1^68: 

Karl Stroher, June 14-August 9, 1968. Catalogue text by Hans 


Traveled to Kunstverein, Hamburg, August 24-October 6, 

1968; Neue Nationalgalerie, Berlin, March i-April 14, 1969; 

Stiidtische Kunsthalle, Diisseldorf, April 25-June 17, 1969; 

Kunsthalle, Bern, July 14-September 3, 1969. 

Budapest, Art in Embassies, 1968. Exhibition organized by The 
Museum of Modern Art, New York. 

San Antonio, Texas, Hemisfair, 1968-69. 

The American Federation of Arts, New York, Soft and Ap- 
parently Soft Sculpture, October 6, 1968-October 12, 1969. 
Circulating exhibition organized by Lucy R. Lippard. 

New Jersey State Museum, Trenton, Soft Art, March i-April 
27, 1969. 

The Museum of Modern Art, New York, Neu/ Media, New 
Methods, March 16, 1969-August 16, 1970. Circulating exhi- 
bition organized by Kynaston McShine. 

Indianapolis Museum of Art, Painting and Sculpture Today- 
i<)6<), May-June 1969. 

The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, New York 
Painting and Sculpture: i^40-i<)jo, October 18, 1969-February 
8, 1970. Exhibition organized and catalogue introduction by 
Henry Geldzahler. Chamberlain references pp. 32-33, 42, 431, 

Denver Art Museum, Colorado, An American Report on the 
Sixties, October 25-December 7, 1969. 

Wilcox Gallery, Swarthmore College, Swarthmore, Pennsyl- 
vania, Hard and Soft Plastic, 1969. 

Institute of Contemporary Art, Philadelphia, The Highway, 
January 14-February 25, 1970. Catalogue essays by John Mc- 
Coubrey, Denise Scott Brown, and Robert Venturi. 

Boston University Museum of Art, Boston, Massachusetts, 
American Artists of the Nineteen Sixties, February 6-March 14, 

Lo Giudice Gallery, Chicago, Participations, April 1970. 

Noah Goldowsky Gallery. New York, Group, May 1970. 

Contemporary Arts Center, Cincinnati, Monumental Art, 
September 13-November i, 1970. 

Indianapolis Museum of Art, Painting and Sculpture Today- 
1970, April 2i-June i, 1970. Catalogue. 

Whitney Museum of American Art, New York, Annual Exhi- 
bition: Contemporary American Sculpture, December 1 2, 1970- 
February 7, 1971. Exhibition organized by Marcia Tucker and 
James Monte. 

The A-luseum of Modern Art, New York, Techniques and 
Creativity, Selections from Gemini G.E.L., May 5-July 6, 1971. 

Los Angeles County Museum of .Art, Art and Technology, 
May 9-August 27, 1971. Exhibition organized and catalogue 
introduction by Maurice Tuchman. Chamberlain pp. 6S-77. 

The Museum of Modern Art, New York, Younger Abstract 
Expressionists of The Fifties, April 26-September 26, 1971. 



Color plates 

All ektachromes but the following by Robert E. Mates 

and Paul Katz: 

Rudolph Burckhardt: no. 83 

Ronald H. Jennings: no. 11 

Eric Pollitzer: no. 47 

Black and white illustrations 

Rudolph Burckhardt: nos. 4, 9, 10, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 
zo, 21, 24, 26, 27, 28, 30, 35, 40, 41, 44, 45, 50, 51, 58, 59, 70, 
76, 86, p. 63, p. 79, p. 81 

Geoffrey Clements: nos. 5, 7, p. 23 

Los Angeles County Museum of Art: no. 43 

Photo Shunk Kender: nos. 49, 85, 91 

Robert E. Mates and Paul Katz: nos. 3, 6, 8, 21, 29, 34, 37, 

Eric Pollitzer: nos. 46, 78, 98, 99, 100, loi, 103, 104 

John D. Schiff: no. 71 

John F. Waggaman: p. 67, p. 68 



The Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum 


Administrative Assistant 
Auditor ~^^ 



Curator of Exhibitions 
Associate Curator 
Research Fellows 


Assistant Conservator 



Officer, Public Affairs 

Press Representative 
Members' Representative 
Book Store Supervisor 
Assistant Superintendent 
Head Guard 

Thomas M. Messer 

Linda Konheim 

Agnes R. Connolly 

Susan L. Halper 

Louise Averill Svendsen 

Diane Waldman 

Margit Rowell 

Linda Shearer 
Carol Fuerstein 

Mary Joan Hall 

Penny Koleman 

Orrin Riley 

Lucy Belloli 

Saul Fuerstein 

Robert E. Mates 
Paul Katz 

David Roger Anthony 
Dana Cranmer 
Robin M. Green 
Anne B. Grausam 
Miriam Emden 
John P. Rafferty 
Darrie Hammer 
Carolyn Porcelli 
Peter G. Loggin 
Guy Fletcher, Jr. 
Charles F. Banach 
Yolanda Bako 



2,000 copies of this catalogue designed by Malcolm Grear, 
typeset by Craftsman Type Inc., have been printed by 
Scroll Press, Inc. in December 1971 for the trustees of The 
Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation on the occasion 
of the exhibition "John Chamberlain: A Retrospective